Snowy tears
by Fantasiette
Summary: Fantasio comes back from his last expedition. But there is a problem: he is alone. He has to fight the dreadful truth, the painful missing of the only man he ever loved.
1. Atrocious truth

As the Castle of Champignac is dozing off under his white snowy coat, a man suddenly appears at the courtyard gates. Tall, wearing a long, dark coat, he is very thin, and has blond hair. His head is low, and he is walking slowly, stumbling in the heavy snow. His blue eyes are empty, his face looks tired and weary. Fantasio, for it was him, was exhausted, and desperately sad. He was coming back from a long and dangerous trip, where he and Spirou had to investigate on the disappearance of a scientist, specialized in the nuclear field. This man was now in perfect security, and technically, the mission was a success. But Fantasio was devastated, for he was a survivor….

Indeed, Spirou was dead.

Spirou is dead.

_Dead..._

These words were sounding again and again in his brain, tearing his heart, ripping his soul. And as he walked slowly towards the castle, he wished nothing but having died in Spirou's stead. In his mind, he couldn't stop playing the terrible scene, again and again. The young man being brought on top of the cliff, as himself, far from him, was struggling against the soldiers who were clutching his wrists:  
"No...No! Not him, please. Please! Take me ! Take me you bloody bastards! NO!" he was crying out, while he could see the red mane he cherished blazing under the sun, one last time, as an everlasting challenge for death.

Then the moment came, and within a second that felt hours to Fantasio, Spirou fell under the sound of the rifles, tearing the blonde's heart into pieces. Fantasio collapsed and fell to the ground, following his soulmate's movement while the latter was falling into the water, and screamed in pain, crying as never before. The grief was so deep that it felt physical, and Fantasio thought he would go mad with horror.  
"NOOOO! Spirouuu! My love….Oh my God…" He kept screaming, his body shaking, his heart falling into the darkest abyss.  
"My only love…."

From this moment, Fantasio had been nothing more than an empty shell, longing for death, lost in a world without Spirou. His heart was always full of tears, yet his eyes were dry, for they had no more to pour. He didn't utter a word for weeks, barely eating, suffering every second of every minute of every day. And day after day, they kept interrogating him, believing that killing Spirou would destroy Fantasio enough to make him talk. But they were wrong: Fantasio was far, and his suffering was so intense that nothing they could do to him would make a difference. Finally, they let him go.  
He couldn't even remember exactly how long he stayed in prison, how he was released, and how he got back home.

Their house had seemed terribly empty, like his heart. At first, he wondered if he would have the strength to enter it. When he finally did, he slowly meandered in the hall, then in the living-room, the kitchen…..and their bedroom.

There, the atmosphere that reigned in the entire house felt even colder, and Fantasio suddenly realized that until the very last moment, he had hoped that all of this was just a terrible nightmare, that Spirou was waiting for him at home, that he would kiss and hold him when he hears his terrible dream.

But Spirou wasn't there. And he would never be there anymore.

The truth was too atrocious: Fantasio brusquely collapsed on the bed, and tears came back to his eyes. Curled up on the frozen blanket, he cried with all his heart, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. Pressing his nose in the sheets, he tried desperately to smell his perfume, once again, one last time, as he feared it would eventually fade away from his memory. But he couldn't find it, and his pain turned into anger. He stood up and yelled:  
"It's unfair! YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME INSTEAD!"

On that note, utter rage overwhelmed his heart, and he kept screaming while breaking all he could in the place. No, it could'nt be, this was too unfair, too unbearable... Throwing away chairs and mirrors, Fantasio fought like a lion, refusing to accept the unsunstainable truth, the awfully tangible absence.

After a few minutes, exhausted, he fell on his knees and he spread his arms in the air, his eyes raised to the ceiling:  
"Come on…Take me….But make him come back. Please."  
Panting, he waited for a moment, fatigue and despair making him almost believe someone was actually listening to his grief.

But no one was listening.

And Spirou wasn't back.

Desperate, but defeated, crushed by the cruel reality of his loss, Fantasio curled himself up on the ground, and, after sobbing for hours, he finally fell asleep.


	2. The last friend

Fantasio spent two days prostrate on the ground, sleeping, then waking up and crying until he fell asleep again, and dreamt about Spirou. He felt like keeping doing this forever, just to see Spirou once again in his dreams, until his face fades away. But on the morning of the third day, he took a decision. He couldn't stay in this house. He needed a friend. And the only friends he had left were the Count and Spip, who stayed with Pacome, in Champignac.

As he arrived at the heavy door of the Castle, he rang the bell.  
When the Count opened it, he started, and the two men stayed face to face:  
"Wooden sword, Fantasio...", the Count let out.  
Pacome couldn't stop himself, and pulled Fantasio in a firm embrace, tears rolling down his wrinkled cheeks.  
"My boy... My dear friend..."  
Fantasio couldn't speak. He was empty. So empty.

Eventually. the old man took him into the living room, and sat him on the couch. He went to kitchen and came back with a huge cup of tea. As Fantasio took it, the Count fell in his armchair and burst out:  
"My God, you're alive..."  
Fantasio didn't let him rejoice too much  
"Spirou...Spirou is dead, M. Count."  
These words were like fiery spears plunging into his heart, ripping his soul apart. He closed his eyes in pain, and his face twisted in a wince, while he wiped a tear from his left eye. The Count didn't say anything. Thus, while clutching his cup of tea and staring at his shoes, Fantasio started telling their adventure, the last he had the honour to live with Spirou.

"As you know, Spirou and I, he began, wincing at the name of his beloved partner, we decided to investigate upon the disappearance of Dr Nutshell, who works in the nuclear field. After a couple of months, we finally managed to find him. He had been made prisoner by a powerful Serbian general, who wanted to build a revolutionary weapon he could use against Russia and the rest of the world. Spirou and I succeeded in freeing him after many battles, and we hid him. But as I was trying to reach the Embassy in France in order to get out of the country alive, I fell into an ambush, and was made prisoner."

Fantasio remained silent for a moment, then resumed:  
"As you can easily imagine, Spirou decided to come and release me: but that was precisely what the general was expecting, and as clever as Spirou is (the Count noticed the use of the present), the General got him anyway. They trapped us and tortured us for days, trying to make us confess where we had hidden the doctor, but none of us would talk".

New stop. He was arriving to the worst part.  
"So they used a different strategy. They took Spirou to a cliff, far from the general quarters and..."  
The tears had come again, rolling down his face:  
"They took Spirou away and...God...this is so hard..., he sobbed, they took him and..."  
He could say no more. The terrible truth remained stuck in his throat. He put his cup on the table, and buried his face in his hands, sobbing painfully:  
"They made me watch ... I couldn't do anything. They killed him...They killed the man I have spent all my life with. The only man I have ever loved. His body fell in the water, and he's lost forever."  
His sobs became more violent, and he poured his endless sorrow in his hands. The Count reached out and sat next to him, gently patting his shoulder, his eyes wet:  
"There, there, son. Tell me something, my friend... Am I right when I say that you were placed quite far from the execution spot, that you had no way of seeing his face, yet you distinctly saw his red hair?" he asked very seriously.  
Fantasio raised his wet eyes upon Pacome's gentle face:  
"How on earth do you know that?"  
The Count smiled:  
"Because he told me."  
Fantasio stared back at him, without understanding.  
"What do you mean?"  
The Count's smile widened:  
"I mean, my dear Fantasio, that Spirou is alive."


	3. Deceptive looks

Fantasio couldn't utter a word. He kept looking at the Count, wondering if he had eventually completely lost his mind or if it was the cruelest joke of all times.  
"What the hell are you saying, Mr. Count?! I saw Spirou die!  
- Tuut tuut. I beg your pardon, but that's not what you said.  
- I said….  
- Please, Fantasio, listen to me. You confirmed to me that you couldn't see Spirou's face from where you were.  
- But his hair, his clothes… I know it was him!" Fantasio cried out.  
The Count smiled again:  
"It was a frame-up, my friend. Now listen to me…"  
Firmly, he placed the cup of tea back into Fantasio's hands, while the reporter stared at the Count as if the latter was a ghost.  
"Two months ago, Spirou came knocking on my door. He was in the same state as you are right now: he burst into tears, told me everything. How you were both captured and tortured, and how you were killed before is very eyes.  
- What?!  
- Wait a moment, my friend. I'm going to explain everything. I'm sorry for letting you tell the whole story once more, before telling you the truth. But I needed to be sure: I know now, that both your executions were fake. It was a mise en scène designed to break you, to make you lose control and tell them everything they wanted to know. But they failed to measure the depth of your love. They didn't think that making both of you believe the other was dead would, on the contrary, push you to shut yourself in a deeper silence."?  
Fantasio kept silent. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was afraid to believe it, as such a disillusion would definitely kill him.  
"What convinced me, is that both the execution scenes were set up in the exact same way, and both Spirou and you told me about the hair blazing in the sun. And, as I can see on your finger, you are wearing Spirou's ring. Or at least, a replica. Just as Spirou's wearing yours. It was all part of their masquerade."  
Fantasio was astonished. The Count was right: the day of the execution, they gave him what he thought was Spirou's ring:  
"May it help you remember what your silence cost." They told him.  
On their sixth anniversary, they bought two identical rings, and decided to wear them until the end of their lives, as an everlasting proof of their unbreakable bond. From this time, none of them had ever taken it off, and Fantasio had been destroyed when they gave it back to him, because it made Spirou's death even realer.  
"Where is he, M. Count? he asked in a white voice.  
- Ah... I was getting to that point." said the Count in an embarrassed voice  
Fantasio held his breath, fearing to hear what the Count had to say.  
"He left two days ago and I haven't seen him since. He used to go walk for hours but he always came back at nightfall. I'm worried."  
At this moment, they heard frenetic taps at the window:  
"Spip! At last! I asked him to watch Spirou." The Count exclaimed.  
He opened the window, and when the little squirrel saw Fantasio, he marked a pause, then jumped in his hands, squeaking with delight:  
"Hey Spip, yes, it's good to see you too, buddy."  
Fortunately, Spip had stayed with the Count during their trip. But when Spirou came back alone, he understood that Fantasio would never come back, and it broke his little heart. Thus, he was pressing his nose into Fantasio's skin, who held him gently against him. But soon, he carried the squirrel up to his blue eyes, and asked him:  
"Spip, tell me, where is Spirou?"  
The animal jumped from his hands, and fell to the ground, squeaking, and making gestures they couldn't understand. Desperate, he ran through the door, calling them to follow him. They arrived in the library, and watched the squirrel climb on the highest bookshelf.

Suddenly, they both understood:  
" My God...  
- The old tower..." Fantasio breathed.


	4. Swan's heart song

Spirou was so tired and weary that he barely felt the frozen wind or the heavy snow falling on him. His eyes were lost in the white horizon, unspoiled canvas on which the scene of Fantasio's death kept being depicted by a cruel hand. On his open right palm sit Fantasio's ring, only object he had left from the man he loved from all his heart. When he got released, he felt like he had no other place to go than the Count's castle, where Pacome and Spip were waiting for him. During all the journey back, he wondered how he would tell them the terrible news, when he himself couldn't accept it.

As he was contemplating the beauty of the landscape under the snow, Spirou was thinking. Every night since he came back, he had the same dream in which Fantasio would die calling his name, begging him for help. But a dozen nights ago, he had another dream. Fantasio appeared like an angel, more handsome than ever, his eyes serene. Spirou fell on his knees, crying with rage:  
"I failed... I FAILED TO SAVE YOU! You died because of me..."  
Fantasio kneeled before him, and gently placed a finger under his chin, forcing the young man to look at him:  
"No, honey, no... he said, baby, look at me"  
Spirou raised his tearful eyes upon the beloved face:  
"Spirou, none of this is your fault. I was stupid enough to fall in that ambush.  
- I should have saved you... I'm miserable..."  
Fantasio kissed his forehead:  
"My love, listen to me. You have to be strong...  
- Oh please... don't give me that...  
- I'm serious. Spirou, you are young. Don't waste your life on me."  
Spirou gave him an angry look:  
"How am I supposed to live without you? I love you, damn it, I have been loving you since as far as I can remember. I can't do that, Fantasio, you hear me? I can't! I….."  
Fantasio pulled him in his arms and held him tight:  
"Shhhh... now, now...you have to, my love. Do it for me, okay?"  
Spirou wanted this moment to last forever, but it was a dream, and Fantasio was already fading away all around him. His arms, his chest, which were once part of his world, were leaving him alone, forever:  
"Don't go...  
- I have to, my love, answered Fantasio, his voice already sounding far.  
- Fantasio please... I love you so much... Don't go!  
- I'll be living in your heart, as long as you will remember us. I love you, Spirou, and I always will."  
And he disappeared, leaving Spirou in the dark, clutching his arms around him, still holding Fantasio's ghost:

_"Don't go..."_

"I tried, Fantasio."  
Spirou's voice sounded feeble and weak in the cold howling wind.  
"I tried, as you asked. I tried to live without you."  
New stop. The snow kept falling on him, imperturbable.  
"I can't."  
A tear rolled on his cheek; he lowered his head in pain. Then he rose again, still talking to the wind.  
"You said I had to be strong. But I have no more strength..."  
The wind moaned, voices seemed to echo in the air. A new tear appeared on Spirou's face:  
"...because it all came from you, you were my strength, Fantasio."  
A sob rose into his throat:  
"I miss everything about you, he said his wet cheeks freezing, I miss your laugh, I miss your voice singing under the shower in the morning, I miss the sound of your footsteps while you're making coffee, I miss the smell of your pipe while you're reading, I miss the sound of your fingers on the keyboard when you write, I miss the sight of the keys you have forgotten on the pedestal table, which I know you're going to come back for...I miss..."  
His voice died in his throat, overwhelmed by emotion.  
"I miss your lips on my eyes when you're getting up, I miss your arms around me when I come to bed late at night, I miss kissing you when you sleep, holding you when you're cold. I miss your tantrums and angers, your clumsiness and your perpetual blunders, your stubbornness and your silly, so silly jokes in the worst situations."

Submerged by memories, Spirou finally broke out, and sobbed in the snow.  
"I miss you, Fantasio. God, I miss you..."  
Taking the ring to his lips, he kissed it, drowning it under his tears.  
"I miss you every second, of every minute, of every hour of everyday. So I ask you once more: how can I live with the pain? How can I live without you, when you've been with me since as far as I can recall? How can I live in a world where you're not by my side, where I can't hear you laugh and smell your perfume? How can I live when I know that I will never stop loving you, Fantasio?"  
The voices in the wind kept moaning, but didn't answer. So Spirou closed his hand on the ring, and raised his eyes towards de skies, out of defiance.  
"I don't want a life, Fantasio, if you're not there to share it."  
The voices in the wind seemed to be crying out his name.  
"I'm not afraid of dying, I never was. Death is far better than an entire life spent with your sore absence, than an empty life."  
On that note, he climbed on the parapet, and spread his arms.  
"So here I am, Fantasio. I'm coming to you. And this time, no one will stop me."

And slowly, as a bird taking its last flight towards freedom, he leaned forward, and let himself fall in the emptiness.


	5. The vow

Fantasio ran out from the castle, followed by the Count. They jumped in the turbotraction, and Fantasio made the engine roar, turning the flight mode on:  
"We won't go far, driving with all that snow" he muttered.  
While the Count nervously fastened his seatbelt, Fantasio flew the car out of the garage then out of the yard, and plunged towards the forest.  
"M. Count, do you think Spirou is actually going to try and kill himself?"  
Pacome sighed:  
"I know it doesn't look like him, but I have a bad feeling about this. I've never seen him so devastated. He barely spoke in two months. I think his grief is too deep, and pain can push even the bravest people to do the most desperate things."  
Fantasio didn't answer, but he accelerated.  
The snow was too heavy, and they nearly crashed in the trees several times:  
"Fantasio, turn on the automatic pilot!"  
The blonde reluctantly obeyed, and he yelled:  
"Direction: the old tower of Champignac!"  
The car recorded the instruction, and plunged even faster between the trees:  
"Faster...FASTER!" Fantasio exclaimed  
" Oh my..." the Count whined.

They finally got to the Tower. It was a medieval ruin, built by the Count's ancestor Hippolyte de Champignac. Fantasio jumped out of the car, and placed his hand on his eyes. There, his heart froze. He could distinctly see a human shape at the top of the tower. In his mind, the image of Spirou falling from the cliff appeared once more, and he yelled:  
"No...No! Not again!"  
He ran into the tower and began climbing the steps, screaming Spirou's name. But Spirou couldn't hear. Fantasio put all his strength in the climb, and the ascent seemed to be endless.  
"Spirou! Spirou please, WAIT!"

At the foot of the tower, the Count was also yelling and making great gestures to Spiroy, but the latter couldn't see. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, and he was holding something in his hand, talking to the wind:  
"Spirou! Spirou!" the Count kept calling.  
But suddenly, Spirou climbed the parapet.  
"Oh my lord, this is horrible. Spirou don't do this! Fantasio get the heck up there thousand hells!" the Count exclaimed.  
But then he fell silent with horror, as Spirou spread his arms. At this moment, the Count knew ot was too late.

His lungs were burning, his legs and arms aching, but nothing could stop Fantasio. Yelling his partner's name, unwearingly, he climbed the steps of that diabolic tower. Now he could hear the wind, and it carried the voice he knew so well, and his heart slowly filled itself with a mixing of unspeakable hope as well as the utmost terror to be too late. He couldn't stand the idea. For months he had dreamt of that moment, he had prayed countless times a God he didn't believe in for Spirou to come back, he had been ready to give his life to see him again. And now that the very love of his life was just a few feet away from him... No, it was too cruel:  
"If Spirou dies, this time, I'll die with him." Fantasio exclaimed.  
At last, he rushed out of the stairs, on the top, slipping in the snow. He fell on his knees, and finally, he saw him, and his heart stopped. Spirou was there, his back turned. He had climbed the parapet, and spread his arms like an eagle his wings. He was going to fall.

When Spirou felt he was falling forward, he closed his eyes and invoked Fantasio's face. But suddenly, as his feet had almost left the stone, the voices in the air turned into a true desperate cry, and someone grabbed him by his belt, with astonishing strength. Spirou was violently pulled backwards, and he heavily fell on his back. He didn't have time to wonder what happened when he found himself wrapped into an embrace so tight he could barely breathe. But when he heard the voice, he almost fainted.  
"I'm not losing you again! You hear me? NEVER AGAIN!" Fantasio cried out.  
Burying Spiou's face into his shoulder, Fantasio held him with all his strength, crying. He could barely believe this was true: until the very last moment, he had feared it was all an enormous lie.  
Spirou finally disengaged himself from his embrace, and when his brown eyes met the blue ones, he couldn't say a word. Slowly, he raised his hand and stroked Fantasio's cheek.  
" It can't be… God, am I dead already?" he whispered  
Fantasio let out a sob:  
"No, baby, you're not dead. Thank God, you're not dead. Oh, thousand thunders, you're not dead…."  
And embracing Spirou in his arms, he pressed his lips on the ginger head's frozen ones, and kissed him with all his heart.  
Spirou was in shock, but slowly, he realized he was not dreaming. His prayers had been heard. Fantasio was alive. He smothered a sob against Fantasio's lips, and answered with passion to his kiss, crying and laughing at the same time. Then he took his face into his hands, and they looked at each other, as if they were looking at the most beautiful treasure. And Spirou burst into tears, shaking violently:  
"I thought I had lost you forever, he said with difficulty  
- Oh I know, shhhh….I know, honey. So did I…..Come here…" Fantasio answered.  
Translating words into action, he pulled Spirou back in his arms, and pressed his face into his chest. There, he stroke his hair, and started rocking back and forth, blessing these tears he could feel on his skin, echoing those rolling down his own cheeks:  
"My sweetheart… It's over now, we're together again. Nothing, no one will ever separate us again, I promise you." He said in his deep voice.  
Spirou couldn't answer. Clinging to Fantasio, he was completely submerged by emotion. Suddenly, Fantasio realized tears were not the only reason Spirou was shaking.  
"Baby, you're completely frozen. Here, put this on."  
He loosened his embrace, and took off his great coat, with which he wrapped Spirou's shoulders. Then he kissed him again, wiping his tears. Spirou smiled, kissed him back, and nestled his face into his neck:  
"God, I can't believe it…." He whispered.  
Fantasio hugged him even tighter, protecting him as he could from the cold wind, sweeping away the snow in his red hair.

"In the name of all mushrooms of Champignac!" a voice exclaimed behind them.  
They both raised their heads: the Count had finally managed to climb the stairs:  
" I feared the worst", he said, collapsing with fatigue into the snow.  
"It's over now, M. Count, we're both fine", Fantasio answered, still holding Spirou.  
The latter disengaged from his arms :  
"But how on EARTH is that possible? I saw you die! And… what about this?"  
He showed the ring to Fantasio, who smiled, and held up the one he thought was Spirou's:  
"It was all a masquerade. These are replicas. They wanted to drive us mad, to break us into telling them where Dr. Nutshell was."  
Spirou remained silent.  
"But how…. I don't understand.  
- It's all right, darling, Pacome is going to explain it all to you. Now come, let's go home.  
- That's it boys, let's return to the castle. My old bones are aching"  
Spirou looked once more at the two replicas, then took them both. He stood up, went towards the edge. Worried, Fantasio followed him:  
"Spirou, what are you doing?"  
The young man turned back and stroked his cheek:  
"Don't worry, darling. I am just putting all this story behind us. Forever."  
And with an ample gesture, he threw the cursed rings into the emptiness, where they fell as he would have, if Fantasio hadn't held him back. Then he took Fantasio's hands and plunged his eyes into the blue ones:  
"I will never, ever let anything happen to you. Do you hear me, Fantasio? I have lived the worst two months of my life. I don't want to live this again, ever."  
Fantasio took his face into his tall hands:  
"And I will never, ever let anything happen to you either, Spirou, and I lived a real nightmare too."

On that note, they kissed tenderly, then went to join the Count, holding hands, and feeling stronger than ever, for they were reunited for life. 


End file.
